


wishful thinking (mindless dreaming)

by bruadarxch



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, angst follows shirbert wherever they go i couldn’t stop it, anne finds gilbert on instagram, anne has zero (0) chill, awkward use of social media, gets kinda angsty towards the end, i was peer pressured into expanding it so i hope you’re happy!!!, kinda sad, never writing a multichapter without a plan ever again don’t try me!!, they haven’t seen each other in A While, very happy ending because that also follows them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-11-24 19:10:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20912660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bruadarxch/pseuds/bruadarxch
Summary: ”She didn’t mean to, but a comment led to a friend of a friend’s profile and then she sees it. She sees him. Gilbert Blythe. Her old archnemesis turned friend turned... nothing.”Anne is bored for the first time in her life and falls down the Instagram rabbit hole. She finds a familiar face.(No longer a one-shot due to popular demand!)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first fanfic ever!! I was doing Fictober (using Inktober prompts but for writing instead of drawing) and this poured out of me during day 2 (prompt: mindless). I don’t know how it happened. Oh well. 
> 
> I hope you like it! I’m very sleep deprived so it may have some errors I apologize in advance.
> 
> (Title from “Back to December” by Taylor Swift)

It’s Friday night and Anne Shirley-Cuthbert is bored out of her mind. She’s not used to this feeling, being the kind of person whose imagination stretches beyond limits. She can usually be found with her nose stuck in a book, her body covered in paint after impulsively painting a mural in her bedroom wall, or talking the ear off of whoever happens to stumble upon her daily walks across the Avonlea forest. Today, however, she absolutely cannot think of anything to do. _What is wrong with her?_ Her problem has always been trying to choose among a million crazy ideas, not trying to come up with a single interesting one.

That’s how Anne finds herself mindlessly scrolling through Instagram on this fine Friday night. She’s just got caught up on all her friend’s newest posts when she stumbles upon it. She didn’t mean to, but a comment led to a friend of a friend’s profile and then she sees it. She sees _him_. Gilbert Blythe. Her old archnemesis turned friend turned... nothing. She sighs with nostalgia. When she first arrived in Avonlea she made a point of hating Gilbert, and he made it awfully easy at first. (She blushes remembering how he made fun of her hair calling her “Carrots” on her very first day of school.) (She smacked him across the head with her fairly heavy new binder.) (She can’t say she regrets it, no matter how embarrassing it was to cause such a scene.)

_(That first year she made an effort to antagonize him despite his efforts to apologize and become her friend. They were the smartest kids in their class, and fighting for the top spot became their thing. However, halfway through the school year they were forced to do a long assignment together. She’d been rather upset, but after the first disastrous meetings they found a good rhythm. Soon they realized they were a pretty good team, their rivalry helped bring the best out of each other, and slowly but surely Anne warmed up to Gilbert. He still teased her, but was much more aware of the sheer force of her fury, so it was always good natured. She kept her binder visible at all times, just in case._

_Their friendship kept growing well after school was over, and they ended up hanging out almost every day that summer. Much to Anne’s surprise, she found a kindred spirit in him. She tried to deny it, but she was growing rather fond of their long talks about anything and everything, of the way his eyes sparked when they were in the middle of a lively argument, of how his dark curls caught the summer breeze, begging her to run her fingers through them... Yeah, Anne most definitely did _not_ have a crush on Gilbert Blythe, thank you very much._

_Sadly, at the end of the summer, tragedy struck Avonlea when Gilbert’s father passed away. Anne felt helpless, having no idea how to comfort her friend. She tried her best to be there for him, but after a few weeks he told her he was moving to mainland Canada indefinitely to stay with distant relatives. She didn’t want to upset him, and so she didn’t fight him. She just hugged him, wished him the very best, and told him to come home some time. Then she went back to Green Gables and cried herself to sleep. Gilbert never came back, and she never heard back from him.)_

It’s been almost five years since she last saw him. Five years in which Anne both came to terms with how she really felt about Gilbert, and tried to get over him when it became obvious he didn’t want to be her friend anymore. In those five years, Anne graduated high school at the very top of her class —although the lack of competition made it less exciting— and got a scholarship to study English at Redmond University. She’s supposed to move into her dorm in a week. If she lets herself think about it, the dread of packing up and leaving Avonlea behind is almost paralyzing — hence the lack of plans and mindless scrolling through her phone.

And now she’s in utter shock at the sight of Gilbert Blythe, the last face she was expecting to see today. She feels her heart thumping in her chest when she’s faced with those brown eyes and the curls she used to fantasize about touching.He hasn’t changed a bit. Her mouth has gone dry and she almost drops the phone on her face. When she regains some of her composure she reads the caption: _@callmebash: catching up with my favorite moke @gblythe._ She doesn’t know who this Bash person is, she doesn’t even know how she stumbled upon his profile, but from the looks of it him and Gilbert seem to be very good friends. In the picture both of them are smiling wide and even without context Anne can see an easy comraderie between them. She clicks on Gilbert’s username and her heart almost jumps right out of her body when she reads his bio:

** _Gilbert Blythe_ **

_Pre-Med at Redmond Univesity_

_“Not all who wander are lost” - J. R. R. Tolkien_

Redmond University. Gilbert Blythe is at Redmond University and Anne Shirley-Cuthbert is about to lose any trace of cool she could possibly have left. Is the universe for real right now? Should she follow him? Message him? Does he even remember her? A rush of adrenaline makes her check her own profile —filled with pictures of baked goods, book reviews none of her friends bother to read anymore, and a million snaps of trees— and on a whim she decides to change her bio.

** _anne (with an E!)_ **

_dear old world, you are very lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you_

_redmond university bound_

She doesn’t know why she has felt the urge to add that last piece of information, but she does it and then goes back to Bash’s Instagram feed. She sees Gilbert in a few more pictures. (A particular favorite: Gilbert grimacing with a plate of food in front of him. The caption says “_guess @gblythe wasn’t ready for Trinidad’s superior cuisine after all_”.)

With trembling fingers, she goes to Gilbert’s profile again. It’s a private page, so she can’t see any posts. She clicks the follow button and inmediately throws her phone across her bed and regrets every single life decision she’s ever made. She buries her face in her pillow and thinks _stupid stupid stupid stupid—_

A loud “ding!” cuts short her train of thought. A notification. Then another. Then another. Anne throws herself at her phone and unlocks it, her heart going absolutely crazy inside her chest. She checks Instagram:

_@gblythe has accepted your follow request!_

_@gblythe has followed you back!_

She also has a private message in her inbox.

_@gblythe: hello Carrots :)_

Her mouth falls open with a breathless laugh. She doesn’t have time to reply when another message pops up in the chat.

_@gblythe: Redmond huh?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anne’s bio is my favorite quote from the books!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask and you shall receive!
> 
> (In case it’s not obvious: when they text Anne is in bold and Gilbert is in italics!)

Anne blinks once. Twice. She’s staring at her screen, unable to react (or actually reply to Gilbert). Five years without any attempt of comunication and now he just... says hello? Like a _madman_? She might be overreacting. No, she _is_ overreacting. But to be fair it took her a long time to come to terms with how huge her crush on Gilbert was. And then she had to come to terms with the fact he definitely did not care for her as much as she did for him, or he would at least have tried to find her online... right? He _knew_ where she lived, for God’s sake! He could’ve sent a postcard so she knew he was alive and well and happy and _maybe_ thinking of her!

After a minute she realizes she still hasn’t replied and Gilbert can definitely see she’s read the messages. She starts typing in a rush.

_@anneshirley_: gilbert! oh my god hi!_

_@anneshirley_: it’s been a while, you’re in redmond? are you just starting now? how are you?? what have you been up to???_

_@anneshirley_: also, please refrain from using that dreadful nickname. don’t think i won’t take my trusty binder with me._

(Wow, Anne. Smooth.)

_@gblythe: Hah, I see some things never change._

_@gblythe: Let’s see if I can answer everything in one go_

_@gblythe: Yes, I’m in Redmond. No, I actually graduated high school early, so this will be my second year here. I’m good, but dreading the workload already. I’ve been up to... lots of things! :)_

_@gblythe: I’ll take it you’re moving into the dorms soon?_

If asked she will deny it, but among the weird fluttery feeling in her chest there’s a pinge of annoyance when she reads Gilbert graduated high school early. _Of course he did_. She thought their days of friendly rivalry were over, but now she’s not so sure. She smiles despite herself. She’s having a conversation with Gilbert!

_@anneshirley_: oh that’s... incredible!_

_@anneshirley_: i’m supposed to move there in a week. i’m a little ball of nerves, i’m sure you’re familiar with the feeling. though i must admit the thought of a friendly face is already giving me the courage to face the unknown!_

_@gblythe: Let me guess: English major?_

_@anneshirley_: how could you possibly know?!_

And just like that, it’s like those five years suddenly evaporate. Anne and Gilbert, lost in conversation, writing back and forth until Anne falls asleep with her phone in her hand and a smile on her face. It’s all painfully familiar — even if this is the first time their conversation happens online instead of face to face. (It took a while for Anne to convince Marilla smartphones weren’t evil and could she _please_ have one so she could talk to her dearest Diana while she spent a year in France?) (Of course, Matthew caved in first and she got a shiny new toy for her next birthday.) (Gilbert was long gone by then.)

The next morning she profusely apologizes for being such a rude friend, and Gilbert quickly replies _it’s okay Anne_ and _he should’ve realised how late it was anyway_. Anne reflects on that word. _Friend_. Gilbert certainly seemed comfortable talking to her like old times. Does he still consider her a friend? Can _she_ call him a friend after so many years without so much as a phone call? He didn’t give her his new address or phone number, but he definitely knew hers. The first few months without news from him she told herself he needed time to grieve alone, and he’d eventually come back. After months turned into years, she slowly accepted he must not want her in his life anymore. She still missed him every day, though.

_Did he miss her?_

Anne decides not to dwell on the past, maybe he’ll bring it up in person. (If he even wants to actually meet up with her.) She ignores the small pang of hurt in her chest. For now, she’s just happy to reconnect with her old friend.

The following week is spent between a million cardboard boxes and goodbyes. Goodbye to Diana, who’s decided to take a gap year to decide if she wants to go to college after all. Goodbye to Cole, who now will be even further away. They have the most practice at long distance friendship, so she knows they’ll be okay. Goodbye to Ruby and Jane and Moody and Charlie and even Josie Pye. Goodbye to Rachel Lynde, exasperating as she is. Goodbye to Avonlea. Goodbye to the forests, the fields, the trees, the birds — they were the only ones who never tired of hearing her stories. Goodbye to the White Way of Delight and the Lake of Shining Waters.

Goodbye to Green Gables.

Goodbye to Marilla.

Goodbye to Matthew.

Goodbye.

At times she thinks the heartbreak will be too much, but she’s ready. All her earthly possessions are neatly packed, or stored away for when she comes back during the holidays. A little voice in her head tells her _you’ll be okay, you’ll have Gilbert_. She promptly shuts it off, because what if she doesn’t? Sure, they’ve been talking on and off all week. They’ve exchanged phone numbers and talked about Redmont and joked around, but maybe Anne is getting way ahead of herself. It wouldn’t be the first time. And as much as she’s become an expert in goodbyes this last week, she’s not sure she could handle saying goodbye to Gilbert again.

So she tells her brain to please, _kindly shut up_, even if that’s not something her brain has ever been capable of.

On Thursday, the night before leaving, she sends Gilbert a picture of her ridiculously huge pile of boxes. He replies only some minutes later.

_(21:48) Wow... just wow_

_(21:48) Are you bringing every tree in Avonlea with you??_

**(21:50) of course not!!! i’m bringing the essentials**

**(21:51) it’s not my fault i’m such a complex being with many interests and hobbies**

_(21:55) Never said you weren’t_

_(21:56) Will you be able to carry all your complexity inside your dorm room though?_

**(21:56) i will sure try!**

_(21:58) I’m gonna make you an offer you can’t refuse_

**(22:01) ???**

**(22:01) i’m all ears! (or eyes i suppose)**

_(22:03) I will help you move in_

_(22:03) But only if there are some of Anne Shirley-Cuthbert’s World Famous Triple Chocolate Cookies in one of those boxes :)_

Anne actually laughs out loud when she reads the message.

**(22:04) i can’t believe you remember that**

**(22:04) i think that can be arranged, mr blythe!**

_(22:05) Then I believe you got yourself a deal, Princess Cordelia_

Anne can hardly believe her eyes, and she’s sure she’s blushing from the root of her hair to her very toes. _Princess Cordelia_. She vaguely remembers telling Gilbert about her childhood alter-ego, and maybe even allowing him to read one of the embarrasing stories she wrote about her when she was a little kid. The idea of him remembering that is just preposterous. She goes straight to the kitchen, unable to stop grinning, and starts to get everything ready for a last batch of cookies.

_Maybe Gilbert Blythe did miss her, after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you aren’t willing to bake a whole batch of cookies for them at 10pm the night before leaving for uni... are they really the one?
> 
> I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS! I was overwhelmed by all the lovely comments you guys left asking for more. I’m terrified of letting you down but I couldn’t stop thinking about this lil universe either!! Thank you for the kindness (and all the kudos omg!). Please let me know if you like where this is going :) (for one, I’m quite enjoying myself making Anne pine for once instead of the other way around haha)
> 
> Btw, my tumblr is @rootedbutfl0wing if you want to say hi :) pls note I am a baby, do not yell at me or I *will* cry. I only respond to constant showers of love and attention.
> 
> Love you guys xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m having way too much fun with this. Hope you enjoy the awaited reunion!

_Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out._

“...when you get there. I bought that monstrosity of a phone especially so you can cont— Anne? _Anne_! Are you even listening to me?!” Marilla’s voice breaks into Anne’s anxious stupor and she jumps a little.

“I’m so sorry Marilla! I’m just so nervous right now I can’t focus on anything. What if I can’t find my dorm? What if I can’t find my classes and I’m late and everyone _hates me_ and I fail and—”

“Anne! Do calm yourself for heaven’s sake”, Marilla scolds her. There’s no anger in her voice, though. She looks at Anne and sees unshed tears already forming in her not-so-little-anymore girl’s eyes, and Marilla softens. “You’ll be _fine_, Anne. You are destined for great things, I’ve always known it. This is an inevitable part of the journey, and it may seem difficult now but I’m sure you’ll charm everyone at Redmond just like you charmed everyone in Avonlea when we took you in!”

Anne is definitely crying now. Marilla’s not one for emotional displays of affection. She shows her love in different ways, ways that Anne has always appreciated greatly. This is the closest to a big love speech her adoptive mother has ever given her, so Anne cannot be asked to contain her emotions.

“Now, quit being such an overdramatic child and get on the car already!” Marilla adds hastily. “For the love of God, you’re moving to the mainland not the other side of the world!”

Anne laughs through her tears and hugs her. _This is the Marilla I know and love._

Matthew drives her and all her boxes, and they share a companionable silence through the journey to the ferry. Anne always loved to talk and talk and talk to Matthew when he drove her places, but she can’t think of what else to say to him now. She looks at the wonderful man beside her and her heart swells with love for the best father figure she could’ve asked for.

“You okay in there?” he asks, glancing at her through the corner of his eye.

“I’m perfectly fine, my dear Matthew,” she sighs.

“You’re... you’re quiet, Anne.”

“Yeah... I’m trying to take it all in. Enjoy the drive. And the company!”

“I’ll certainly miss it on the way back”, Matthew muses. Anne reaches for his hand and holds it the rest of the way, thankful for this time alone with him. (She inevitably thinks of the first car ride they shared, the day he picked her up from the foster home in Charlottetown and brought her to Green Gables.) (Tears threaten to form again but she blinks them away thinking _enough crying already, dammit Anne!_)

A ferry and another car ride later, Matthew pulls up in front of her dorm building. A friendly girl pointed them to the right direction when they entered the university grounds, and now Matthew is helping her unload the boxes.

“Matthew, that’s quite enough, thank you,” Anne says taking the last box out of his hands. “You have to be careful! Your heart!”

The man sighs. “Anne, I’m not invalid. I can help you.”

“I know you can but I can definitely fend for myself!” Anne says resolutely, “I’d rather you don’t overwork yourself, I’m sure I’ll be able to find help, _if_ I were to need it.”

“Does this have anything to do with those cookies you made in the middle of the night?” Matthew says with a sly smile.

“I don’t know what you could possibly be talking about!” Anne flushes, and starts forcibly leading Matthew back to the car, “please have a safe journey home! And don’t forget to stay hydrated and water my flowers and—”

“I know Anne. Everything will be... okay.” Matthew nods. He starts to open his arms and his daughter barrels into him, hugging him with all the force she can muster. “I’ll miss you kid.”

“I love you, Matthew”

“I love you too. Don’t forget to call tonight or Marilla might come herself to remind you to use that phone of yours.”

With that, he awkwardly waves goodbye and gets into the car. If Anne sees a wet glimmer in his eyes while he drives away, she keeps it to herself.

She’s looking at the small mountain of boxes in the entrance of the building and trying to decide whether to text Gilbert or not. _She did bake the damn cookies, and they are one of her better batches if she may say so herself, but she couldn’t possibly impose and—_

“Carrots!”

Anne shortcircuits when she hears the nickname. For some reason, the first thing that comes to her mind is _since __when is Gilbert’s voice so deep_. She promptly turns around to face the boy that has plagued her thoughts for a week. (Perhaps for a little bit longer.)

Gilbert is looking at her with bright eyes and a smirk on her face, and her breath catches for a moment while she takes him in. She thinks _he looks so different_ and _when did he grow up so much_ and _did_ I _change that much too_ and _he looks just the same_. She quickly composes herself, and puts her hands on her hips.

“Gilbert Blythe, I _cannot_ believe the first thing you say to me in _five years_ is that horrible, dreadful, _completely insulting_ nickname! This is unbelievable!”

“It’s good to see you too, Anne”, he replies with a smile.

Anne finds she still can’t stay mad at Gilbert when he smiles at her like that. She smiles back, and then she cannot contain herself any longer and throws herself at him. She hugs him so hard she thinks he might have trouble breathing, but Gilbert doesn’t seem to care and holds her back with equal force, so she can’t bring herself to care either.

They stay like that for a minute, Anne breathes his familiar scent in. _How does he still smell like apples? _After a while they let each other go, and he’s looking at her with such fondness that Anne’s heart starts doing somersaults.

“It _is_ good to see you, you know?” she says earnestly, “it’s been far too long.”

“I... I know. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out sooner, I-I...”, he replies bashfully, cheeks turning red. He’s avoiding her eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay. We have plenty of time to catch up now!” Anne offers a friendly smile. ”We really should get to the boxes, though...”

It’s like Gilbert had forgotten why they were meeting up in the first place. He suddenly notices the small hill made of Anne’s possessions, and his eyes go wide.

“So you weren’t joking when you sent that photo.”

“Nope,” she shakes her head.

“And you’re _definitely_ on the last floor?”

“Yup!”

Gilbert gulps.

“Are... Anne, are you sure you have enough space in your room? Or in the building?!” he says, only half joking.

“Oh, quit complaining Blythe! I recall _someone_ offering his help in exchange of certain baked goods, and I didn’t face Marilla’s wrath to bake in the middle of the night for him to back off at the first sign of hardships!”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he sighs, resigned.

“I even snuck some of her plum puffs!” she adds nonchalantly.

“Okay, okay, I’m on it!” Gilbert quips, grabbing the first big box and grunting when he lifts it up. Anne pretends not to notice the muscles in his arms and looks away, face flushed. He looks back at her with mirth in his eyes. “Those cookies better be as good as I remember them, though.”

“GILBERT BLYTHE, HOW DARE YOU.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh what do we think. I have too much time on my hands and couldn’t stop writing. They reunited! Yay! Now onto university life.
> 
> I’m going to try and keep this short, I’m not the biggest fan of slow burn, but hopefully I don’t lose the pace! Let me know what you think :) (I may mention some of Anne’s college friends in future chapters, I still have to decide some details. Definitely no Roy Gardner though I don’t have the patience to deal with men who aren’t Matthew Cuthbert or Gilbert Blythe SUE ME)
> 
> Thank you again for all the supportive comments guys, I’m so happy you’re liking this story! xx


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: i don’t really enjoy slow burn  
also me: :)

It’s been a few weeks since Anne arrived in Redmond and so far it’s been... fine. She likes her roommate, even though she hardly sees her. She loves her classes—the mere notion of a place where everyone is as passionate about the written word as Anne is makes her little heart swell with a feeling of belonging. For the first time in her life, her ramblings about poetry and intertextuality and the impact of the Brontë sisters in gothic fiction are encouraged instead of met with rolling eyes. She likes the campus, which is full of tall and lovely trees for her to read under and feel the smallest connection with Avonlea.

And then there’s Gilbert. Sweet, dear Gilbert, who indeed helped her move in and teased her endlessly and looked like he was having a religious experience when he tried her cookies. Since her first day in Redmond he’s been an absolute godsend: showing her around campus and pointing out the best shortcuts between buildings, helping her get her library card —_I know you’ll be putting it to use sooner than the food plan one. (She did.)_—, sharing everything he learned about student life over the past year.

It should be amazing but it’s just _fine_.

For one, as helpful as he’s been, she’s started to notice a distance between them, an invisible wall behind his eyes whenever they get too close. They joke around and banter playfully and it’s almost like the golden days of their youth. But it’s also... _not_. A couple days after her arrival Gilbert was showing her this lovely little park just behind her dorm, knowing Anne would appreciate having somewhere to walk around nature.

(“_It’s certainly not a forest, but I find walking around the pond helps me clear my mind.”_

_“Oh, Gilbert, it’s perfect. And right outside my door so I can escape the prison of homesickness as often as I’d like!”_

_“I’m glad you like it.”_

_“I love it. A perfect oasis of nature among a concrete jungle.”_

_“Redmond is hardly a concrete jungle, there are like... ten buildings in total. And lots of trees and grass.”_

_“Do be quiet, you know what I mean. Look Gil! Isn’t that path just like our White Way of Delight back home? “_

_“Uh...”_

_“It is! Look at all those lovely bushes. I bet the flowers are the most outstanding shade of white during the spring.”_

“_Yeah... I—”_

_“Will you walk with me? For the sake of old times?”_

_“Maybe... maybe some other day, Anne. It’s getting kinda late, I should go back to my room.”_

_“Oh.”_

_“It’s just... I have a lab on Monday already and I should prepare for it...”_

_“No, I get it!”_

_“Some other day, yeah?”_

_“Yeah... yes, of course.”_

_“I’ll walk you to your building.”_)

After the incident, Anne felt her stomach churning, worrying that she had screwed everything up and Gilbert wouldn’t want to see her anymore. She didn’t quite understand the sudden awkwardness when they’d been having such a lovely day together. A couple days later, though, he joined her for lunch and didn’t mention it, acting completely normal, so she decided to let it go.

Then it happened again when she mentioned something about their old Middle School teacher’s wedding. And again when she tried to share the latest gossip Marilla had received from Rachel. And again when she casually told him Diana might come to visit next month. Every single time she mentioned something even remotely related to Avonlea he just shut her off or suddenly changed the topic or both. Anne was a little bit worried and, not gonna lie, quite annoyed.

Avonlea was _everything_ to her. She was a little orphan who had nothing, and then she had Avonlea. She knew Gilbert had a lot of painful memories attached to the place, but not letting her even mention it was like trying to block a huge part of her very being. If he asked her to refrain from using the left side of her body while he was around it’d be easier than not talking about home. Of course she could talk about Avonlea with her new friends, and make them laugh with the stories of her adventures growing up there. But Gilbert was different, he was supposed to _get it_. She thought having him there with her would be like having a tiny piece of Avonlea, but apparently she was wrong.

It’s the end of September now, and Anne is reading in the park by her dorm. Gilbert was right, she loves it, and it’s still warm enough to sit on a blanket with her back resting against the most magnificent tree, right by the small pond. She’s absorbed in the poetry of Walt Whitman, failing to notice the figure approaching her.

“_I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God not in the least,_” Anne startles when she hears Gilbert recite. He smirks at her. “_Nor do I understand who there can be more wonderful than myself._”

Anne rolls her eyes at him.

“Smartass,” she mutters. His grin grows wider.

“May I join you?”

“You may,” she scoots over, leaving space on the blanket for him.

“Whitman, huh?” he looks over her shoulder at her battered copy of Leaves of Grass. “Is it for class?”

“Yeah, I’m re-reading my favorite parts for a seminar tomorrow. I’ve already read the whole thing several times, of course.”

“Of course,” he teases.

“Oh quit it! Have you only come here to torment me?” she exclaims. He can see laughter in her eyes though, so he knows she’s not actually angry.

“Why, I never!” he mockingly puts a hand on his chest and she can’t hold back her laughter.

“You sounded just like Rachel Lynde right now,” she says before she can catch herself. She winces and looks at Gilbert apologetically. “Sorry.”

He looks confused. “Why are you sorry?”

“Well, I... I’ve noticed you don’t particularly like when I mention...” She clears her throat and turns to face him, “when I mention something related to Avonlea.”

“Oh, um...” Gilbert clenches his jaw, avoiding her gaze.

“And I get it! Really, I do. It probably hurts to think about everything bad that happened there...”

“Yeah, but...”

“... it’s definitely hard for me to think about my time in the foster homes, so I can imagine. I mean, I can’t _know_. But I can imagine.”

“Anne...”

“No, Gil, really, it’s okay! I’ve been trying not to bring it up but it’s just... so _hard_ when I look at you and... well, you’re like a piece of home, you know?”

Gilbert looks like he’s in actual physical pain but at this he finally looks into her eyes, and she thinks she can see a hint of softness among the raw hurt in his face. She holds her breath.

“Anne, I... I’m sorry. You’re right, it’s... hard. Especially with you here...” His eyes go wide when he realizes what he’s just said, “I mean, not because of _you_! Never because of you!”

He’s trying to reassure her and he looks like he’s about to dig a hole in the ground and throw himself in it. Anne can see how much this conversation is affecting him, so she takes pity of him and grabs his hand.

“_Hey_,” she says softly. “I know. It’s fine, I promise.”

“I... I want to explain, though.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know,” he squeezes her fingers, and her heart flutters in her chest. “I want to, though. You deserve at least that. Just... maybe another day? So I can gather my thoughts and not accidentally insult you because you make me nervous?”

The idea of _her_ making _him_ nervous is just absurd, so she laughs, and the tension between them starts to dissipate.

“Of course, Gil,” she smiles at him, “take all the time you need.”

“I don’t think I deserve you, Anne-girl.”

“You _really_ don’t.”

He doesn’t let go of her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Gilbert quotes a verse from Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself” (a very cheeky one because he’s a cheeky lad)  
2\. so i’ve been misspelling Redmond for THREE (3) chapters and y’all just..... let me. i’m so embarrassed. misspelled names in fanfics is one of my biggest pet peaves, like when someone writes “Elizabeth BENNETT” ugh i’m so sorry hahahaha i’m editing as soon as i post this  
3\. can you smell the RESOLUTION? the end is near, my friends. if everything goes to (the admittedly rushed and not great) plan, i think we have two chapters left, give or take! i really hope you’re enjoying the ride :)
> 
> thanks AGAIN for all your amazing comments. even anne shirley couldn’t come up with enough words to express how grateful i am for each and every one of them!! (even the thirsty ones lmao) the encouragement is greatly appreciated <3
> 
> come say hi on tumblr!! @rootedbutfl0wing


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m SO sorry for keeping you waiting. As you can see by the stupidly huge word count, this ran away from me. I hope you accept all (almost) 7k words as my offering for your forgiveness :) I debated whether to upload this in parts so you had something to read as I finished, but I didn’t want to drag the slow burn any longer. Also, it was really hard to write. I’m never letting y’all peer pressure me into writing without a plan ever again!! I really hope you like this and you don’t hate me. This was HARD!

It’s been a few days since their conversation by the pond when Gilbert invites Anne to her very first party. She had gone to a couple in high school, but Avonlea was so small it was always more of a tiny friendly gathering.

This, however, was most certainly a party.

Anne had been really excited when Gilbert told her about it and asked if she wanted to come. Then she got nervous while getting ready, having no idea what was okay and what was too much. As she approaches the address Gilbert had texted her and starts to hear music getting louder and louder, her anxiety is already through the roof.

_Bad idea bad idea bad idea bad idea bad i—_

“Carrots!”

_Oh thank God._

Anne didn’t think she’d ever be grateful to hear the stupid nickname, but she was warming up to the way Gilbert’s voice said it—like it was his favorite word in the world. _Not that she’d ever tell him that._ She looks up and sees Gilbert smiling at her. He is standing at the far end of the street, with his hands in his pockets, smiling at her. _Waiting for her_. Anne tells herself the lightning bolts in her stomach are just product of the anxiety.

“You okay?” he asked when he saw the panic in her face.

Anne sighed. “Yeah, I... anxiety is a bitch, I guess,” she tries to laugh it off, but the smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

“We don’t have to go in there, Anne,” Gilbert takes her hand and squeezes it—_that’s a thing they do now_, she thinks, _platonic hand holding_—, “I’m okay with watching a movie or something.”

“No, it’s fine, I _have_ to do this,” she says resolutely.

Gilbert rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“Yes I do,” she exclaims. She’s started to pace. “If I don’t go in there I’ll always be afraid of going to parties with people who don’t know me and will _maybe_ hate me...”

“No one is going to hate you.”

“...because I’m annoying and never know when to shut up...”

“I wouldn’t say it like that...”

“...and as Avonlea’s finest loves to say, _who’d want to be friends with the ugly orphan..._”

“Anne...”

“...and I mean, Billy had a point there, because I _know_ I’m annoying...”

“You’re not!”

“...if at least I were somewhat pretty I guess people would tolerate me better...”

“Anne, you’re _beautiful_!” Gilbert shouts. That finally shuts her up, and she abruptly stops her pacing to look at him with pink cheeks and big eyes. He doesn’t stop at that, grabbing her by the shoulders and looking fiercely into her eyes. “You’re the most beautiful girl I know. The most beautiful person, inside and out. You’re my best friend and I have not been at the other end of every single one of your feminist rants just so you decide to diminish yourself because of something Billy fucking Andrews said when you shattered his fragile masculinity.”

Anne thinks she has forgotten how to breathe and stares at him, gaping like a fish.

“Gil...” she manages to say.

“If you don’t want to go to the party, we don’t have to go,” he repeats with a softer voice. His hands slide down her arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps along the way. He takes both of her hands and offers her a little smile, “I’m happy to hang out, go watch a movie or grab something to eat and argue about anything you want. But if you want to go there I promise I’ll be by your side, no one will hate you, and we can leave whenever you like.”

Anne is still speechless, and as she looks into Gilbert’s eyes —full of fondness, and determination, and an intensity she isn’t brave enough to acknowledge— her chest feels like it’s about of burst with... with _love_. She loves Gilbert—_maybe always has_—and as convinced as she is that her feelings are one-sided and every beautiful thing Gilbert has just said is platonic, she has to do something before the sheer force of the realization makes her faint. So she throws herself into his arms, presses her face into the crook of his neck, and stays the only thing she can process right now.

“You’re my best friend too. Thank you.”

They walk to the party, hand in hand, Anne still terrified but determined to control the situation.

Alas, the situation gets way out of control.

At first, the party is okay. Gilbert introduces her to his classmates, they say things like _the famous Anne_ and _he can’t shut up about you_ and _it’s nice to finally put a face to the name_ and the warmth that sets in the pit of her stomach makes her feel invincible. (Also, seeing Gilbert Blythe blushing from the tip of his ears to his collarbones is a sight worth writing sonnets about.)

Then the party is _amazing_. It’s not the wild affair she had pictured, it’s more like lots of people hanging out with loud music, some of them dancing, some of them a bit drunk, but most of them are just chilling—talking, laughing, even playing board games. Gilbert stays true to his word and never leaves her side. She’s introduced to a girl from his class who shares her favorite author and they hit it off right away.

And then... then the bubble shutters.

A few hours into the party almost everyone in their circle is kinda buzzed—everyone except Gilbert and herself. She told him she didn’t want to drink—her anxiety was already bad today, she didn’t want to make it worse—and so he didn’t drink more than a beer.

_She loves him._

She’s been having more intrusive thoughts about grabbing his face and kissing him senseless than usual, so really, it’s better she stays sober this time.

They’re sitting in a circle with Gilbert’s friends when someone suggests playing Truth or Dare. Anne almost rolls her eyes, but catches herself and keeps a straight face.

“Seriously?” Gilbert says, and he does roll his eyes. “How old are we?”

His complaints are promptly ignored, and that’s how Anne finds herself facing one of her worst nightmares: being forced to answer intrusive questions and embarrass herself around complete strangers. It’s like Josie Pye’s dreadful Spin the Bottle games she’d force everyone to play at her parties just so she could make fun of Anne. She swallows the familiar lump in her throat and squares her shoulders, the way she always does when she’s trying to be brave about something. _She can do this._

The game starts innocent enough, everyone is either asked to tell embarrasing stories about themselves and the dares aren’t very extreme. Gilbert is asked to confess his guilty pleasure TV show (“_Can’t I drink instead?” “Come on, Blythe!” “...it’s Grey’s Anatomy” “KNEW IT_”) and Anne is dared to make Gilbert blush with a funny anecdote (“_too easy!_”)

After a few rounds the questions begin to get more personal. Anne has to admit she’s never been with any boy or girl—she pretends she doesn’t notice the intent look in Gilbert’s eyes when she glances at him.

And then.

Then a guy whose name she can’t remember looks at both of them with a wicked grin and says “I dare Blythe to kiss Anne already, the sexual tension is getting exhausting.”

Anne blanches and feels like the world has just stopped spinning on its axis, she can’t breathe, and she is most certainly about to perish right there, in the middle of a stupid college party of all places. She knows for a fact her face is now as red as her hair, and after a long second she slowly turns to face Gilbert, who doesn’t look much calmer.

“Come on, guys...” he starts to say.

“No backing out!” someone yells. Anne isn’t sure who because now her vision is blurred and the only thing she can focus on is the boy beside her, who turns back to her with terrified eyes and starts leaning in.

_This can’t be happening._

This is not how she pictured _any_ of this going.

_This is happening._

Anne can’t take her eyes off of Gilbert’s hazel ones, she clutches the edge of her chair for anchoring. When she feels his warm breath on her face she can’t help glancing down at his parted lips, then quickly looking back up. Gilbert’s hand comes up to caress her cheek and she can feel her heart drumming wildly in her chest. She is pretty sure Gilbert can hear it too, even over the music. She can’t see or hear anyone around them anymore because their noses are touching now and she can almost taste him and surely he can see every feeling she has tried to conceal these last few weeks, now plainly written across her face for everyone to read.

Her eyes flutter shut.

And then he moves away.

Anne opens her eyes and finds Gilbert looking at her with an apologetic expression. She’s furious at herself for already missing his warmth.

“I... I’m sorry. I can’t,” he whispers, and her heart breaks.

If someone says anything about it, she doesn’t know, because she quite literally runs away. She bolts through the front door of the unfamiliar house and starts rushing back to her dorm. _Gilbert Blythe doesn’t want to kiss you_. She can barely feel the tears running down her cheeks. _Gilbert doesn’t want you._ She can barely feel anything at all, and she’s not sure if it’s the cold autumn night or the heartbreak. _Gilbert_...

“Anne!” A familiar voice takes her back from her trance. It’s like she summoned him.

She looks back and sees Gilbert running towards her, and she curses herself for the happy bolt she feels inside her chest. She wipes the tears off her face and looks at him as coldly as she can manage.

“What do you want, Gilbert?” she snaps.

“Anne, I’m so sorry,” he says. He’s looking at her with frantic eyes. “I shouldn’t have let it get so out of hand. It was a stupid game, and I knew they’d go too far, and...”

“And you’re sorry they made you kiss me to embarrass you?”

“What? No!”

“You’re sorry you couldn’t even _entertain_ the idea of kissing plain, homely Anne?” she feels her embarrassment and heartbreak start to boil inside herself, and she knows she won’t be able to stop now.

“I told you I think you’re beautiful just a few hours ago!”

“You also told me I’m your best friend,” she yells.

“You are!” he exclaims, clearly frustrated. Anne is looking at him now, the streetlights making her red hair look like a halo of fire around her. Her arms are wrapped around herself, like she’s the only thing grounding her to this world, holding together all the power inside of her. If he weren’t so scared of losing everything right now, he’d be in awe of her. As she continues to stare at him, the fight leaves her eyes.

“Then why did you leave?” she whispers, barely audible.

“What do you mean?” he asks with a strangled voice. He knows perfectly well what she means.

“You know what I mean, Gilbert,” her voice is calmer now, if still cold as ice. _This is wrong_, Gilbert thinks, _everything about this is wrong._

“Anne...” he chokes out. His voice is also barely a whisper, “you know why I left.”

“I know why you moved away,” she retorts. “I want to know why you _left_. No phone calls, no emails, not even a stupid postcard.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t even know where in Canada you were,” she feels her voice start to rise again. “Where in _the world_.”

“Anne let’s do this somewhere else,” he pleads.

“No!” she snaps. “I’m tired, Gilbert. I want to know why you left me. I want to know why you never came back.”

“I did!” his voice booms around the quiet neighborhood. Anne’s breath catches and he stares at her with pained eyes. “I came back. Once.”

“W-what?” It’s like the world has suddenly went off its axis and she’s about to lose her balance. _He’s lying,_ she thinks. _This is a lie._ “When?” _He’s never lied to her, though._

The silence around them is deafening.

“Let’s... let’s go to my apartment,” he finally says.

Anne is in such a state of shock that she doesn’t fight. She lets him take her hand and lead her towards his apartment building right on the edge of campus. They don’t say a word during the twenty minute walk. Anne doesn’t think she’d be able to speak even if she tried. She doesn’t know what to think or what to feel, but she is grateful for Gilbert’s hand in hers grounding her while they walk.

Finally, they reach the building and take the elevator to Gilbert’s floor. Anne briefly notices this is the first time she goes to his apartment. _Probably the last as well,_ her unhelpful brain whispers. She swallows the lump in her throat and stares at the floor, unable to look at him. When they get to his door he gives her hand the faintest of squeezes before dropping it to get his keys.Once they’re inside, he motions for her to sit on an old but comfortable looking couch. She can feel him follow her with his eyes as she complies.

“I’ll make some tea,” he finally says, breaking the silence. “One sugar and a splash of milk?”

“You know it,” she whispers back, still unable to look at him.

While he’s gone, she stands up and goes around the room. It’s a small one bedroom studio, but definitely a luxury compared to the cramped dorm rooms. She remembers him telling her how he’d been saving all summer to be able to afford living alone. _A whole year being forced to share a room with a cleptomaniac stoner definitely makes you value your privacy_, he’d said. She envied him at the time, but now being here in the middle of the night she can’t help but think he must feel lonely sometimes. Nonetheless, this apartment is so Gilbert it makes her feel at home instantly, a bittersweet feeling right now. There are papers scattered everywhere—he has a very organized mind, but she remembers that sometimes that doesn’t translate into an organized studying method. There’s a bookcase filled to the brim with books and random objects—it serves as a space divider, as it hides a double bed behind it. Anne can’t help gravitating towards it—_she always gravitates towards books_—and inspects his collection. There’s a couple shelves full of his textbooks, and then his personal collection right underneath. She recognizes a few of his old favorite books and a science-fiction book series he was telling her about not long ago. When she inspects the last shelf she is happy to see a nice edition of Jane Eyre, and then she sees one of her favorite contemporary trilogies, and then another old favorite from her middle school days, and then she realizes: these are all the books she ever recommended to Gilbert. Her heart is about to burst and she doesn’t know whether it’s out of love for him, or anger because she’d rather have been there to lend them to him, or heartbreak because despite this he’s surely about to tell her she justwasn’t worth staying.

“Anne.”

Gilbert interrupts her train of though. When she turns her head she sees him holding two steaming mugs and looking at her, then at the bookcase. When their eyes meet, she sees a confirmation of what she already knew: this is her shelf. A space for her in his home. With a deep breath, she gets up and accepts the mug Gilbert hands her, and they sit together on the small couch, looking at anything but each other. For the first time in her life, Anne is sure she couldn’t utter a word if she tried. Gilbert breaks the silence again.

“I owe you an explanation, and an apology because you deserved...” she can feel him swallowing. “You deserved so much more. From me, that is. So... yeah.”

“Gilbert...”

“No, let me speak,” there is a hint of a smile in his voice, “you’ve done most of the speaking in this friendship, it’s my turn.”

Anne is fairly certain that if she looks at him all her resolve will crumble and she will run away, so she keeps her eyes focused on her tea and clutches the mug as if hanging for dear life as Gilbert starts his story.

“When you arrived in Avonlea, I was... I wasn’t in a good place. You know that. My dad was already very sick, and I felt... isolated, I guess. None of the other kids understood. And then you arrived with your long speeches and your pretty braids and your determination to ignore me no matter what. Nobody had treated me with anything other than pity for a long time, and for some reason your refusal to even acknowledge me was refreshing,” he chuckles lightly. “I don’t think I ever apologized for being such a jerk and calling you ‘carrots’, and I _am_ sorry, but you finally noticed me—very violently, I might add—and... I was a goner.”

Anne gulps. She can feel her cheeks going warm at the sudden confession, and she glances at him from the corner of her eye. Gilbert is looking at her with a small smile. She looks away again.

“I tried to make amends and be your friend and you were having none of it. And one day you had to bring over some homework I missed and you saw my dad and... I panicked because I was sure when I came back to school you’d finally be nice to me but it’d be because you felt sorry for me. I didn’t want that. But then you proved me wrong and as soon as I was back you came up to me and told me something like _I hope your father makes a speedy recovery, but if you think I’ll go easy on you you’re delusional Gilbert Blythe_”

At this Anne groans and hides her face in one hand.

“I can’t believe I said that,” she speaks for the first time, embarrassment clouding over any other emotion. “And I had the nerve to call _you_ a jerk.”

“It’s okay,” Gilbert chuckles again. “Really, it’s what I was hoping to hear. I remember I told you I’d beat you to the top of the class, fair and square. Soon after that we were paired up to do that assignment for Miss Stacy, and I could feel you warming up to me. I was happy, because I knew you well enough by then to know that any friendliness you felt about me was certainly against your stubborn obsession with hating me, so it had to be sincere.”

“Hey!” Anne protests, and turns fully towards him so she can lightly shove him. She finds him looking at her with mirth in his eyes. “I wasn’t _obsessed_ with hating you, I just... didn’t want to like you. We were _rivals_.”

“Only because you wanted to be!”

“_Fine_!”

The familiar banter left a warm feeling lingering between them for a few seconds before Gilbert’s face grew serious again.

“Anyway. We aced the assignment, you finally gave in and realized how awesome I was,” he jokes. Anne rolls her eyes and drinks some tea to avoid starting another argument. “That year, having you as a friend... _A true kindred spirit_, as you said... It was the happiest I’d been since my dad was diagnosed. And then...”

Despite everything, Anne doesn’t want him to be in pain, so she takes his hand and squeezes it as if telling him I know, you don’t have to say it. He looks at her with a grateful smile.

“I wasn’t expecting grief to hit me as hard as it did. I’d been preparing myself for it, but... It was bad. I’m not proud of this, but the first time you came over after the funeral, trying to be there for me like the amazing friend you are and... I just couldn’t do it. You’d been through so much before coming to Avonlea and you were still so _strong_, so... full of life, and happiness. I felt... inadequate, in a way. Like I didn’t have the right to be so devastated when I’d had the time to prepare for it, and a very happy life up until then,” Anne is about to interrupt him, heartbroken that he’d even thought that, but he registers her expression and quickly goes on. “I know that is absurd now! I went to counseling some time later, and I don’t feel like that anymore. Grief is grief. But I didn’t know that then. So I shut you off. And I’m sorry for that. As for leaving...”

Anne braces herself. Up until now, they were in familiar territory. Now he’s going to finally tell her the part of the story she’s been agonizing over for years, and she can’t lie to herself anymore. _She’s afraid of the truth_. Gilbert pauses to take a deep breath, and continues.

“The only family I had left was an uncle in mainland Canada. I’d only met him once, but he kindly took me in, and I had no other options so I moved in with him. In Alberta. It was hard for the both of us, he lived alone until then and didn’t really know how to deal with a grieving teenager. But he was kind to me, and did what he could to help me: get me to go to a counselor, give me my own space in his apartment, support me when I decided I was ready to go back to school. I still felt like a part of me was missing, but I really couldn’t complain. That first year passed in a haze, I don’t really remember much of it, only going to class and somehow passing all my exams. Then I started high school, and I realized I needed a drastic change. I was still... not myself, and I needed something to force me to break out of it. My uncle found a scholarship for ‘promising students who wished to broaden their horizons’, and he urged me to apply. I did, I worked as hard as I could that year, and I got it. The scholarship paid for a whole year studying in different places around the world. I was supposed to go to classes in the morning, and then do a couple hours of volunteering. I was sent to Trinidad, in the Caribbean. You can imagine the culture shock. That’s where I met Bash, we volunteered in the same hospital. He was a local so when we became friends he kinda took me under his wing and soon I thought of him as a big brother.” Gilbert smiled softly at the memory. “Being in that hospital was exactly what I needed. I was worried it would bring back bad memories, but I felt useful instead of helpless. It felt _right_. Like I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing. I hadn’t felt like that in _years_.”

Anne can’t help but notice how bright Gilbert’s eyes get when he talks about his newfound vocation. She knows she loves literature, but she still has to figure out what to do with that. Gilbert _knows_. His passion is contagious.

“When it was time to get back to Canada, I knew I wanted to become a doctor,” he continues. “Bash told me he needed a change too, so he came back with me. He was the first person I told about Avonlea. I hadn’t been able to talk about it since I left, but one night I just started telling him about my orchard, and the forest, and the lakes. I even told him about my dad, all the good memories I had of him there, and the bad ones. I told him about you.”

“Me?!” Anne can’t help but interrupt him.

“Yeah, I told him the story of how you smacked me with a binder in front of everyone. He said you should’ve hit me harder.”

“Smart man” she quips.

“Anyway, we came back together. My uncle helped him find a place, and soon Bash met Mary. She worked in the big city right by our town. They got married a year after, and now they have a daughter,” a proud smile starts to spread across his face. “They’re the best. We’re like an odd family now, but a happy one.”

“I’m happy you found them,” Anne smiles. She knows the feeling of needing a family and finally finding one. The smile falters when she looks at Gilbert and sees the expression on his face, which is now filled with regret.

“When I came back finally knowing what I wanted to do, I poured myself into studying and getting into Redmond. I overworked myself, to be honest. But I finally knew what would make me happy, so I wanted to get there as fast as possible. That’s why I graduated a year early. The admissions committee here was impressed with me, I guess, and I got in. I was happy, but Bash told me he was worried about me. He said something like _you can’t run away forever, that’s not how it works_. He was right, of course, but I didn’t want to hear it. He’s definitely perseverant, though. I may have called him a pain in the ass once or twice. He insisted he wanted to sea Avonlea for himself. Maybe, and I quote, _meet that redhead that has you acting like a moke_,” he rolls his eyes but a faint blush tints his cheeks. “So after a while I caved in, and my uncle took us to Avonlea. It was... hard. I thought maybe the good memories would come back with the bad ones, and I was right, but the bad ones were... just worse, I guess. I couldn’t bring myself to sell the house, so it was still exactly as it was when everything happened. I swear I could still smell the sickness. It was... It was devastating.”

“Why didn’t you come see me?” Anne asks with a small voice, bracing herself for the hit.

“I... I did see you, actually,” he replies, guilt clear in his voice.

“You _what_?”

“After being in the house became too much, I went for a walk. Subconsciously my feet led me to the forest, and by the time I realized I was heading to our old meeting spot my heart almost escaped my body. And then I heard you. You were with Diana. Laughing. I wanted to run away but I couldn’t move. It’s like I was tethered to that spot in the woods. My head was spinning thinking of what would I do if I saw you. What would you do. I didn’t meant to, but I overheard a bit of your conversation. Diana had just come back from France, I gathered. You were in the middle of one of your magnificent speeches about friendship and kindred spirits. I couldn’t help but smile because I hadn’t allowed myself to think about it, but I missed them so much. I missed you, Anne, I really did,” he’s looking at her now with a fierce intensity.

Anne wants to look away but she can’t, because this is what she has been wondering for five years, and although Gilbert missing her would’ve made her happy not long ago, now it’s just confusing.

His eyes are shining with unshed tears, but they don’t move away from hers. “You were my best friend,” he continues. “You _are_ my best friend. I almost came up to you that day, but I didn’t because when your speech was over Diana said that you knew she’d come back. And you said something like _I’ll always be afraid of kindred spirits not coming back_ and you sounded so... _sad_. My heart fell to the ground. For one second I hoped you weren’t talking about me, but then Diana said _you never know, he might call you one day_ and then you said...”

“I said that I didn’t want to hear Gilbert Blythe’s voice ever again,” she finishes, horrified. She had totally forgotten that conversation with Diana. At the time, Gilbert had been gone for over three years and Anne had given up hope of ever hearing from him again, so whenever he was brought up she got angrier and angrier. Tears fill her eyes as she thinks _after all this time, it actually was my fault._ “Gilbert, I didn’t mean it, I promise.”

“I know!” he quickly retorts. “Oh god, I didn’t mean... It’s not your fault Anne!”

He can see all the bad thoughts clear on her face, so he takes her chin and forces her to look at him.

“Anne, it’s not your fault,” he repeats, looking intensely into her eyes. “You could’ve said you wanted to... _hug_ me and I would’ve run too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s not what you said, it’s the fact that I realized I was there and _you_ were there and I wasn’t ready to face you when I knew I’d hurt you so much even though I missed you like hell.”

“Oh.”

“I panicked. I ran back to the house and begged Bash and my uncle to go back. I must have looked like I’d seen a ghost because they didn’t ask questions.”

Anne doesn’t know what to say or what to think. She’s still looking at him, trying to process all this information. There are a million thoughts running through her head like he was there and he missed her and what if she’d turned around and seen him.

After a few seconds staring at him in silence, Anne finally decides on something to say.

“What the _fuck_, Gilbert?”

Gilbert doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t _that_.

“E-excuse me?” he says, dumbfounded.

“You heard me!” she stands up and starts pacing around the room, feeling suddenly frantic. “What the fuck? You move to the other side of Canada...”

“I had to!”

“...you spend a _year_ travelling the world...”

“That’s not accurate.”

“...you graduate early, get into _my_ dream university...”

“You know that was a coincidence!”

“...you go back to Avonlea, _spy on me_, and still can’t be bothered to _call_ me?!”

“Anne, I’m sorry!”

“You _should_ be sorry! You gave me no options, I didn’t have a phone number, or an address, or _anything_,” Anne is furious. Her eyes are blazing and she suddenly has the urge to throw something at Gilbert. Funnily enough, the last time she remembers being this angry at someone it was also Gilbert Blythe’s fault. “You saw me after four years and couldn’t even say hi? How am I supposed to feel about that?”

“Anne, you were saying you didn’t want to hear my voice! And with our history...”

“I just told you I didn’t mean it!”

“How was I supposed to know that then?”

“_I was in love with you, Gilbert!_”

There it is.

Anne claps a hand over her mouth.

Gilbert looks like she’s just smacked him with her binder all over again. Gobsmacked, he can’t do anything but stare at her, gaping like a fish. He watches her in shock as tears pool inside her eyes for what it seems like the millionth time tonight. _She was in love with him_. The silence is so charged he can almost feel an electric current between them.

Anne can’t decipher the emotion behind Gilbert’s eyes, but she can’t look away either. They just stand there for a couple minutes, but to her it feels like a hundred years. After a moment, she takes his silence as a sign that he can’t come up with a gentle way to let her down. Even if he found the words, she doesn’t think she wants to hear them anyway. So she finally breaks eye contact and starts to walk past him towards the front door.

When their arms brush together, Gilbert comes back to life and grabs her wrist, stopping her. Her heart is in her throat, and she slowly turns to face him again. His voice is barely a whisper, and if she weren’t on the verge of tears herself she’d swear it almost breaks when he speaks.

“..._was_?”

He’s looking at her like she’s a wild animal, ready to flee if he’s not careful enough—which, to be fair, is not too far fetched. She knows what he’s asking and her first instinct is to run and run and run until she’s back in Avonlea, curled up in her room and safe from the way his eyes are boring into her very soul. His hand around her tiny wrist is the only thing stopping her. She knows what he’s asking. She can’t find her voice, nor the courage to expose her heart to further damage. She just lets out a shaky breath and shrugs.

“For how long?” he insists, serious if still imposibly quiet.

“The very beginning, I think.”

“Anne...” his voice is pained, and she can’t do it. Whatever he has to say, she can’t bring herself to hear it just yet. So she keeps talking.

“Don’t say anything,” she pleads. “Just... forget this. It’s fine, okay? I know it’s stupid. We were just kids, and I wanted to hate you, and then we were friends and... And then you _left_ and it was too late. I made my peace with that.”

“Anne,” he repeats. She ignores him.

“I know you never intended to see me again, and us being here is a coincidence, and the last thing you need is a constant reminder of a painful past. I know you just started to make a life of your own here, and I’m sorry for disrrupting it but... Gilbert, when I saw your picture I... everything came back. I thought I was over it. I really did. And then you called me _Carrots_ of all things,” she lets out a watery laugh. “I... I thought I’d never see you again. And then I was here and _you_ were here, being as kind and charming and funny as ever. Being my friend. How could I...”

She can’t bring herself to look at Gilbert when she says this, but she has to tell him before she lets him go. Even though she’s still furious, and he drives her mad, and she wants to run away like she always does, and rebuild the walls she had carefully put around her heart and he had slowly melted in just over a month. He needs to know.

“I love you, Gilbert,” she whispers, tears running down her cheeks. She thinks she hears a sharp intake of breath, but she can’t stop now. “I tried not to but I did and I _do_ and it’s okay that you don’t feel like that because now we both have the closure we so desperately needed so I can let my romantic fantasies roam in different directions and you can go back to that wonderful and well deserved new life of yours without me being a burden and-”

Her rant is cut short by a pair of hands grabbing her face and Gilbert Blythe’s lips crashing into hers and then the world stops because _Gilbert is kissing her_. Gilbert is _kissing_ her. His hands are craddling her face like she’s the most delicate object in the whole world and his lips are warm against hers and she can taste the salt of her own tears—or maybe his too because his cheeks are wet now. She can’t really process what’s happening, and she’s afraid of moving just in case this is a dream after all. But then Gilbert whispers “_Carrots_...” against her mouth and she finally kisses him back. Her lips start frantically moving against his and he moves his arms until he’s grabbing her by the waist, pulling her closer and closer. Her body reacts before her mind can think about what to do, and she finds her hands traveling up his torso like they have a life of their own. They end up at the nape of his neck, and Anne sighs at the softness of Gilbert’s curls. When she tugs the tiniest bit Gilbert lets out a sound that sends shivers down her spine.

He pulls the both of them towards the couch, but instead of gracefully landing on it he trips and they both fall quite unceremoniously. Anne lands on her back and Gilbert just about manages to catch himself with his arms, trying his best to not crush her. The clumsy interruption cuts short their kiss and they find themselves breathing heavily and staring into each other’s eyes. Then they both burst out laughing.

Gilbert gets off her and tugs at her hand until she’s sitting next to him. This time, he doesn’t allow an inch of space between them. A rogue strand of red hair has fallen from Anne’s braid and he tucks it behind her ear. Anne is sure her heart is about to explode in a million tiny pieces. It’s her turn to be dumbfounded.

“I... I don’t understand,” she finally says with a shaky laugh.

“Was that... not clear enough?” he says with a teasing grin. Anne rolls her eyes.

“I could use some clarification on certain points,” she retorts. Gilbert laughs and kisses her again. And again. And _again_.

Suddenly Anne breaks the kiss.

“I’m still mad at you, you know?” she says, panting. Gilbert gives her an amused look. Her eyes are bright and her lips are red and swollen, so her argument isn’t very strong.

“Okay?” he replies cautiously.

“Why didn’t you kiss me? At the party?” she asks, and although Gilbert can tell she’s not actually mad, she sounds a little hurt. He gently touches her cheek with his knuckles.

“Anne, I’ve been waiting to do that for... years. If it isn’t obvious,” he chuckles. Her eyes go wide, and her mouth forms a perfect ‘o’. Gilbert briefly kisses her again, as if to prove his point. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, but I haven’t waited that long for our first kiss to happen as a stupid dare in front of my drunk classmates.”

Anne lets out an incredulous laugh. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to process anything about this night in a long time. Gilbert is looking at her with those intense eyes, and now she can let herself see everything in them. Admiration, passion, longing. Love. It’s all too much, but it feels right. She cups Gilbert’s face with her hands and kisses him softly, just because she can. He reciprocates with enthusiasm, his hands shyly roaming up and down her back.

“I love you, Carrots,” he whispers between kisses. “I’m crazy about you.” Another kiss. “I missed you every single day that I was away.” Another kiss. “You’re the brightest, smartest, most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.” Another kiss. “Please, forgive me. I’ve been so stupid. Say you forgive me.”

“Gilbert!” Anne chuckles, but her eyes are welling up with tears again. _He loves her._

“It’s just I realized I hadn’t told you with actual words,” he retorts, sounding giddy all of a sudden. “We do have a history of miscommunication.”

“You have a point,” she rolls her eyes. Then her voice goes soft again, “Okay. I forgive you, Gilbert. What now?”

She sounds almost shy. Gilbert looks at her and sees all the hope and joy he feels reflected in her eyes. He takes her hand and brings it to his lips.

“What do you want, Anne-girl?” he asks with reverence. Anne positively melts under his gaze, the nickname sends a wave of giddiness through her whole body. She takes a deep breath before replying.

“Gilbert Blythe, I want to be with you. I want you to forgive me as well, I don’t think I’ve been as good a friend as you deserve.“

“There’s nothing to forgive, Anne” he protests.

“I want you to _stop interrupting me for once in your life_,” she says pointedly. Gilbert mimicks closing his lips with a zipper. “I want long walks and equally long talks with you. I want us to share all our dreams and ambitions and worries because I know you will relentlessly support me until I succeed, but also you’ll catch me if I fail, and I’ll do the same. I want you to know that I trust you and I feel safe with you, and I want you to feel that too. I want to be there for you, come over when you’re so busy with your studies that you forget to feed yourself. I want to go back to Avonlea with you when you’re ready. I want you to know that I’m proud of you, and always will be. I want you to come to me when you’re happy, but also when grief overcomes you. I will try my best to help you through it the same way you always helped me through all my hardships. I want _everything_ Gilbert.”

He’s looking at her like she just handed him the moon, his eyes are crinkling in the corners. “Have I ever told you that you have a way with words?”

“Once or twice,” she teases. “One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“You are forbidden from ever leaving me again,” she declares. Gilbert takes her face between his hands again and leans in. They’re both smiling.

“Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, good luck getting rid of me now,” he says with the biggest grin she has ever seen gracing his face. Then he kisses her again, and it feels like a promise.

_Everything_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it! I really hope you liked it, I really didn’t want to disappoint you! (It was giving me so much anxiety let me tell you.)  
Also, just a bit of oversharing on the internet: out of all characters, I relate to Gilbert’s storyline the most. I also lost my dad not long ago, and basically ran away to Ireland for a year just a few months afterwards. It was kinda cathartic to write about grief from a different point of view than mine. This was super hard to write because I’m terrified of not doing it justice but at the same time it felt good to let out the words :) that said, I wasn’t planning on this taking so long or, you know, *being* so long. But these idiots just wouldn’t stop talking. Oh well.  
Thank you all for all the sweet comments from the beginning. I’m so happy I shared my first fic with this amazing community! Let me know what you think, and come talk to me on tumblr @rootedbutfl0wing if you wanna chat <3 
> 
> PS. has anyone here watched the Lizzie Bennet Diaries? did you catch the reference? :) (if you didn’t it’s fine but also if you like Pride and Prejudice and enemies to lovers and modern au’s you should be running to YouTube right now!!!)

**Author's Note:**

> Anne’s bio is my favorite quote from the books!


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